


Sugar and Smoke

by orphan_account



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, Love, M/M, Pining, a very metaphorical fic, baz finds simon, i wrote this at 3 am during a power outage, its nice though, like cmon u cant expect me to beta read something i wrote at 3 am, lovers fic, man i dunno why im posting this shizzle tbh, might be a little confusing, no beta read we die like i am at 3:31, small tiny angst, the writing isnt like a regular fic, they are in love even if its difficult to read into it, they eat bread together which is ultimate gay love, theyre in love and simon is clueless and baz is sad sometimes, this fic is not about a power outage, this is more poetry in story form than a story, tsk tsk tsk, yearning for love probably like usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23628346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Baz yearns for Simon over a span of time. They're written in the stars for each other, and Baz is pained while wondering why he must love someone that doesn't love him back. They find each other.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Sugar and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3 am during a power outage! no beta reads, just edited capitalization before posting. i have a lot of fic beginnings im a little scared to post because of criticism and fear, mainly, but its three am right now, and its only a short little thing. i hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~
> 
> i apologize if the writing is a bit confusing. its more poetry than regular story
> 
> ~
> 
> mwah mwah *chef kisses but to ur face*

He's singing to the blue sky, but its a soft tune. He's filled to the brim with his lover, her flowing like water in his limbs and lungs, flavoured and calling out to be spread. He's grinning, lost to the world, not thinking about his feet or where he takes them.  
~

I'm singing to the navy blue sky, begging to be answered as to why I long so much to be the ground he walks on, the flowers he runs his worn hands through. Why I wish to be held somewhere deep within him, carried with him as an assurance to a key to a soul he could have if he wanted; to break if he wanted. I'm his.

I sing, asking the stars out there somewhere that hold my fate in their light why I can't be with someone elses soul. It's the greatest burden to be written into the same stars as someone that runs with another heart through a tomato garden, red and white, flowers in hand and a crown of hope kept high on their shoulders, thinking of love. The love he carries is not my own, but I wish it were. I wish I were someone's that could love me on purpose. I run home with a question, wondering if it is my fault or fates flawed design. I question whether we choose who our souls are guided to. Who do we love, if it's not with choice?  
~

He sings to the trees, a basket in hand filled with strawberries and a bottle, by himself. Colouring the ground green and gold where he walks. His love can be carried wherever he takes it, and I follow to watch. My heart has a preserverence of the dangerous kind. I will be hurt.  
~

I sing in my truck bed with my dog at my feet. A poison bottle in my hand, a perfume bottle from long ago an added weight in my pocket. I've sprayed the scent until I got sick of my own heart. The trees are stained with the sound I poured into the wind, colouring them morose and gloomy. They do not know why they've been painted with a sad colour, but only that they must keep on with it until the scent fades. They havent chosen, but they must bear it. My mothers perfume has never left the inside of my nose, my throat, my beating heart. Perhaps I were the trees, once.  
~

He returns to sing a purple tune, craning his neck with a question up to the wrong direction of the moon. He's always reached for the sun. I've always split the two. He asks it a question with his lips, and it answers with a storm. The sun is covered with clouds, and the rain beats down on his head as it hangs low, marking the ground back to his car. I live here. He visits, without knowing it.  
~

He finds himself back here, singing during the rains, a rope between him and a tree. He digs his feet into the dirt and cries out in pain as the tree pulls him in and under its roots, planting him into the ground beside it. After his wails, he calms, sniffles, speaking to the tree. A friendly being. He asks it a question, and the tree answers. He sobs once more, looks up to the sky, and is answered with a hot beam. He grins and is unwrapped, told to go home. As he walks by, I can taste my stained perfume on the air he's waded through.  
~

He returns, a torn letter in hand and a hope thats flooded his heels. He walks with it, glides to the edge of a river like a paintbrush. Looking out into the sea as if looking for a lost lover. He smells of smoke and saltwater. His heart smells of a campfire. He is looming over the edge of the water, looking down at his reflection, and cries as he is pulled under with a stream of water, like an arm, wrapped around his torso. I finally follow him.

I search for him underwater for days. The green caves and dark tunnels I've grown familiar with are simmering with an orange light. He's mapped out every corner of my home and buried himself in it, bruising his arms and legs. I find him upside down in a tree. Starfish are talking with him, their legs swishing with his giggles. The stars at the bottom of the sea speak to me again. My heart is right where I left it. My heart is with him.  
~

We hum at the edge of the water, hands linked and coated lips, eating a slice of lemon bread and frosting each other with colours. My soul has always been painted, and its in this moment I know its with smoke and sugar. The scent of the trees and my mothers perfume do not leave, but are covered with another love. He's found me. We've followed each other. I've found out why we do not choose the souls we love.

**Author's Note:**

> *chef kisses ur face again* happy day!


End file.
